Promise
by Jennifer Darknight
Summary: He didn't know the old man had that planned for him. Either way, Omega would have him back, and the doctor would get his just desserts for what he'd dared to do. / Omega / Copy X, MMZ3 /


**Title: **Promise

**Fandom: **Megaman Zero

**Characters: **Omega, Copy X. Mentions of Weil, Zero, and Elf!X.

**Pairing: **Omega / Copy X

**Rating: **R

**Warnings: **Violent / bloody imagery, Omega being crazy, spoilers for MMZ3, I suppose.

**Summary: **He didn't know the old man had that planned for him. Either way, Omega _would_ have him back, and the doctor would get his just desserts for what he'd dared to do.

**Note: **Written for my friend Yuui for her birthday. Happy birthday!

* * *

Pathetic.

At least, that was what all those who had tossed him aside had called him. A useless copy, wrapped too tightly in a greatness that he couldn't attain regardless of how hard he tried; or perhaps a weary Prince, grasping at the sweet rose of power so strongly that its thorns pierced him so that he was left as a gurgling, choking mess?

Or he was just what that whoreson of a doctor had thought he was: a tool, meant to be used, and cast away.

Omega, as always, had known better. Not that such things really mattered right now. The deed had been done under his nose, without his knowledge, and all that was left in its wake was the sparking mass covered in coolant and frayed wires.

Broken.

That was what anyone could call him. Even the jitters of that haughty voice were gone, the ruler's pride quashed. Short of one thing (one precious, precious thing; a precious thing that Omega was going to take _back_, thank you very much) there was nothing left of him that could have been called salvageable. Without it, he was no longer the iron-willed ruler of Neo Arcadia, the only one who was able to bring a dying nation back to its feet in the wake of the Energy Crisis, the once-warm body that accompanied him in his bed and armor on many a night.

After what he went through, it was amazing that even as little as a chunk of torso connected to a partially-battered head was left at all.

Not that it mattered; in his state, he was destined for the junk heap, possibly to be consumed by those who wished for extra parts (or what little they could fish out). A voice modulator here, an internal fan there, whatever was necessary for their pathetic bodies to function.

Or they would even take his core and suck up what energen was left, feasting upon it without any care as of who he was, who he was destined to be.

…

Omega let out a venting breath and moved his hand away from the hilt of his saber.

No.

No need to mourn. No need for that familiar rage, washing over him with that soft kiss of insanity.

Even if some lower being defiled his body, took him apart and treated him like a piece of scrap, that was all that they could have taken. They wouldn't get ahold of _him_ underneath. The Copy couldn't feel what was left of his breastplate being ripped from him, his innards being taken out and strewn across the floor as cybernetic vultures searched in vain for something that could be taken for their own.

It was not as though their lesser bodies could handle his superior makeup, anyway.

Omega knelt down in front of the husk of X's perfect copy.

He knew where it was. How could he not? It was where his own control chip was, where the control chip of all others of their make were located. All he needed to do was check the head, check the-

"W-w-w-w-w-who's th-THER-r-rre?"

-he jerked back his hand at the sound. The shattered body trembled, bathed in its own internal fluids but still somehow functional. A few sparks flew out at Omega's face, but he didn't pay any attention.

The Copy was still alive?

"An-an-SWER m-m-E."

Clicks and screeches of static, but it was still his voice. Copy X was conscious enough to think and speak, at the very least; but his eyes were shut, melted down from the force of the blast. Not even his mouth was moving, the speaker behind his half-formed lips doing all the work for him.

A doll. It was as though he was speaking to a doll, rather than...than _him_.

"...You're alive." Was that a tremor in his voice? He couldn't tell. Didn't care. There was something clutching in Omega's core that he didn't care to name right now, not when there were other, more important things to worry about.

_Copy X was still alive._

"O-O-ME-g-g-g-a?"

Omega didn't bother nodding; it wasn't as though the Copy could see him, anyway.

He could obviously be heard, though how well was of course put into question. Copy X could hear well enough to recognize words and voices, so some of his equipment had to be intact. At least enough for him to carry something of a conversation.

Words. Omega had to use words right now.

"...Yes." He wondered if his companion could feel the brush of fingertips against his cheek, stroking what little skin was already there? "It's me."

"What Ha-happENed? It-t-t h-h-rTs. Z-r-o-o-o, O-o-o-ri-Gi-N-NaL, wh-wHEre's-"

_'It hurts.'_

Of course it did. With how little of him was left, he was lucky to be _alive_.

"Gone, but don't worry. It'll be all right soon."

"ALL r-r-IGht-t?" The copy shook, as though he was trying to look up at him. To move his head in the direction of Omega's voice as he lifted him into his arms.

The old man would _pay_ for this.

"Yes." He had to get a lab. Some equipment. Once that bastard was taken care of, surely there would be plenty for Omega to work with. He always kept a wide range of spare parts. In the case of the Copy, Omega had always found it suspect that he had so many of them lying around in crates and under worktables (oh, did he not think that he would have noticed? How cute).

Well, he didn't need to know why now.

With some blueprints, a table, and some time, he knew he could make do on that claim.

"S-o-ooOOoo y- diiiiiiiiii-di-di-di-DIIIDn't b-tr-tr-AY m-m-m-m-ME."

Omega brushed a hand over the Copy's forehead, what little bits were shown in the wake of his cracked and dented helmet. "_No._"

He rose to his feet, still holding what was left of the Copy to him.

"I didn't betray you, and you're not going to be the one who dies today."

It was true that his companion couldn't see Omega's wolfish grin, nor could he see the glints of anticipation in his eyes when he stepped out of the mockery of a throne room and into the hallway beyond. There was just that..._thrill_ of knowing that soon he would be on the prowl, on the hunt with blood slathered on his hands, perhaps even on his mouth depending on whether he opted to use his saber, hands, or teeth for the inevitable rending of flesh or steel.

But the Copy knew. Omega _knew_ that he knew. From the screeches of unformed words to the meagre attempt at a nod, he knew Omega's intent and was not at all disapproving.

Not that he expected any less. Betrayal had to be punished, and neither of them were very keen on being played for fools.

Two 'fools' who were soon to transfer back and show their...well, _disapproval_, once that portable trans-server did its job calculating the coordinates and hummed to life.

Copy X shifted in Omega's tight embrace.

"O-oMEga..."

_Starting transfer. _

_5...4..._

"Don't worry. I told you, I'll make things right again."

_3...2..._

"And the first thing you'll see..."

_1..._

"Will be his remains."

_Preparations complete. Transferring..._

And the Messiah always, _always_ made through on what he wanted, and kept what was rightfully _his_.

Even if all other 'allies' of his ended up fallen at his feet like the bloated, blood-gorged worms that they were.


End file.
